


Flashbacks

by songsformonkeys



Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Minor Character Death, Rescue Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:15:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23245375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songsformonkeys/pseuds/songsformonkeys
Summary: "A man walked into a bar... It was like the beginning of a funny story but as this particular man walked into the bar you found yourself frozen in your spot. With your eyes widening and with your drink halfway raised too your mouth you must have looked like you'd just seen a ghost. The truth wasn't all that far off."The Reader got kidnapped and Javier was the one to rescue her. Years later, she spots someone in a bar which brings back the memories of what happened back then.
Relationships: Javier Peña/Reader, Javier Peña/You
Comments: 10
Kudos: 104





	Flashbacks

_A man walked into a bar..._ It was like the beginning of a funny story but as this particular man walked into the bar you found yourself frozen in your spot. With your eyes widening and with your drink halfway raised too your mouth you must have looked like you'd just seen a ghost. The truth wasn't all that far off. You felt your heartbeat speed up and a shiver ran down your spine as the man made his way into the room. Luckily, he wasn't looking in your direction as he headed straight for the bar.

In your mind, you were suddenly transported back to the events from three years prior...

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

You had been out with your friends that evening too. A new restaurant had just opened in the barrio and your friend Ofelia had been begging you to go there every day for the past week. You had been busy with studying for an upcoming exam at the university but tonight was your night off. So you had no excuse to say no and your friend knew it. She'd shown up at your apartment with a bottle of wine and a promise to pay for all your drinks if only you'd come with her. You hadn't needed much convincing before agreeing, and there hadn't been a day since then when you hadn't regretted that decision.

The start of the evening had been really nice. The restaurant turned out to be wonderful and you'd met up with a couple of other friends which you hadn't spoken to in a while.

It was on the way home when things had taken a turn for the worse. Both you and Ofelia had been a bit tipsy at this point but you had immediately sobered up at the sound of screeching tires as a van skidded to a stop in front of you. Before either of you could react, two men were jumping out of the car with guns aimed at you. The next minute was a panicked blurr as they yelled and grabbed you. One of the men hit you across the face with the back of his hand when you instinctively pulled back to get out of his grip. Ofelia screamed your name as you were both shoved into the back of the van.

They yelled at you both to shut up but you were too terrified to even breathe, let alone scream. Who were these men and what did they want?

Ofelia begged for them to let you two go. At first the men ignored her but then they warned her that if she didn't shut up by herself they were more than willing to help her stay quiet.

”Ofelia,” you begged in a voice that was barely audible over the sound of the engine. They had pushed you into opposite corners of the van and you desperately wanted to sit next to your friend, but you didn't dare move a muscle. Speaking her name had taken every ounce of will-power you could muster. You were terriefied to the point where it felt like your chest would both explode and implode at the same time. Tears were rolling down your cheeks.

The drive took a little over 40 minutes according to your watch. When you stopped, the kidnappers tossed you two canvas bags and told you to put them over your heads. You were convinced they were gonna take you out and shoot you but you didn't dare not to follow their orders. Maybe it was better, you had reasoned, to not know the exact moment death would come even if you knew it was rapidly approaching.

They hadn't killed you then but one of them had grabbed you around the back of your neck and dragged you with him. It had been a miracle that you hadn't tripped.

When they'd pulled the bag off your head you had been standing in front of what looked like a prison cell. Inside it sat seven other people your age, looking just as terrified as you felt. Some of them you recognized, others you had no idea who they were.

It was only later, when the kidnappers had left and you dared to speak to each other that you had learnt who everyone was and had begun to piece together what might be the reason why you were all here.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The following days had been something out of the cruelest of nightmares. There were whole days that you couldn't remember and other parts that were crystal clear.

They barely fed you and after a couple of days the pain of hunger was a constant companion, making it difficult to both sleep and think. They didn't let you leave the cell even for a minute. It took them a whole day before they showed up with two buckets. By that point the smell was already unbearable.

The nine of you had figured out that you were probably held hostage in exchange for something, most likely money. The introductions during day one here had revealed that you all were from wealthy and influential families. That lit a small spark of hope in your chest. As one of the guys pointed out, if you were hostages, they wouldn't kill you unless they wanted to kiss all that money bye bye.

That tiny bit of hope was abruptly snuffed out on day three when they shot Ofelia.

They'd just asked her to stand up and before either of you could react or suspect a thing, they shot a bullet through her head. You watched as if in slow motion as the spray of red hit the wall behind her.

Your body reacted before your mind could catch up and you threw yourself towards Ofelia with a wordless scream of terror and agony. The others in the cell had screamed too but were now pressed as far up against the walls as they could. One of the men yelled at you to get away from Ofelia but you didn't hear him, just continued to scream. There was a sound of a gun being cocked and four strong hands grabbed you from behind and pulled you off your best friend's body. It was two of the other prisoners and they held you back as you struggled to get free. One of them had his hand over your mouth to keep you from screaming. They were clearly worried that the sound might get you, and possibly them, killed as well.

One of the men entered the cell, while the other stood guard with his gun outside. He was looking at all of you like he was hoping one of you would make a stupid move. They dragged Ofelia's body out of the cell and that was the last you saw of her, although the blood and the stain on the wall remained even after she was gone. If they hadn't bothered with the piss, the blood wasn't gonna be a priority for cleaning. In fact they were probably hoping it would continue to serve as a warning for the rest of you. It did.

But it didn't matter how well you behaved. The guards had begun to grow restless and impatient with being cooped up in the building and it didn't take long before they found different ways to entertain themselves at your expense. The girls, and sometimes the boys, were plucked from the group, one at the time, and the screams that followed would haunt your memories for years and years after.

It happened to you, several times, but later when the doctor had asked you about it, you couldn't remember any details. Perhaps it was your mind trying to protect you. It couldn't drown out the physical pain of it all though and just like all the others that left the cell, you had screamed until your voice stopped working.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

You had no idea how many days had passed when the sound of gunshots barely pulled you back to consciousness. In your weakened state you couldn't tell if the shots were coming from inside the room out outside of the building. For the past day, you'd wished for death to claim you. There was only so much a person could take and you'd reached your breaking point. There was no hope and the quicker the darkness would swallow you up the better.

The gunfire continued, now accompanied by yelling. It wasn't the execution you had been expecting but beggars really couldn't be choosers and as long as it ended, you would be content.

Suddenly the door burst open to the room in which you were lying. You heard someone curse and then footsteps were approaching. Strong hands rolled you over onto your back. The same hands caught your head when you were too weak to hold it up to face him. You squeezed your eyes shut.

”No,” you croaked, ”No more.”

You expected a slap but the man only shushed you, in a tone that was surprisingly soft.

”It's okay,” he said but you couldn't even comprehend the words. ”It's okay.”

”PEÑA!” someone outside of the room called. The gunfire had stopped, you noticed.

”Coming!” the man cradling your face yelled back. He pulled his hands back and you fully expected him to leave you, almost wished for it. Instead he hooked one arm under your legs and the other around your back and picked you up.

You whimpered with pain. The numbness which had been so blissful a minute ago was slowly receding and giving way for the pain. Every part of your body was hurting, the sharp pain and the burning pain using your body as their personal battlefield and right now it felt like they were both winning. You felt as vulnerable as a baby bird. One squeeze of his arms could crush you. But he made no such movement. His grip on you was as gentle as it could be while still holding you up.

You forced yourself to open your eyes. The face above you looked angry and worried, though you could mostly just see the sharp line of his jaw and the profile of his nose.

As if sensing your eyes on him, the man looked down, meeting your gaze. He had a dark mustache and a pair of sunglasses pushed up into his messy hair. His irises looked almost black. It was the first kind face you had seen in what felt like forever.

”I got you,” he said and without conscious thought you began sobbing. Maybe this was Death himself? It seemed fitting, being carried into the afterlife like a small child. Darkness began creeping into your vision.

”Hey? You hear me? Stay with me, okay,” was the last thing you heard before losing consciousness.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

When you came to again, you were lying down in what appeared to be an ambulance, judging by the medical equipment surrounding you and the sound of an engine, which could be heard over the whooshing sound in your head.

There was a woman busy with unfolding and covering the lower half of your body with a blanket. Behind her you could see the man who had carried you earlier. You began to suspect that he might not actually be Death, considering he was arguing with someone over a satellite phone. You couldn't process every word but it was something about “leaving early” and “figuring out who she was”.

Another wave of exhaustion came over you and just as the man turned and met your gaze, you felt yourself slipping away again.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Third time was the charm, as far as waking up went. This time there were different medical equipment surrounding you and the sound of the engine was no longer there. Instead there was a low but steady beeping and the sound of someone sobbing.

You cracked an eye open and you saw your mother first, sitting next to the bed, holding your hand.

“Mom,” you attempted to say but nothing more than a whimper escaped your lips. It had the intended effect, though, and your mother looked up.

“Mi hija!” she exclaimed, a tad bit too loud, probably from shock. There was movement to your right and when you looked over you saw your father jump up from the chair he'd been sitting in. He rushed over to your bed and took your other hand. There were tears in his eyes too and neither of them looked like they had slept for weeks.

“Mi niña pequeña,” your dad whispered in broken voice and reached out to stroke a finger along your cheek. The touch was soft, as if he expected you to break at the contact.

Your mother pressed a button hanging next to your bed and a minute later two nurses showed up. They too were very gentle when they checked on you and asked you questions about how you were feeling. It took a few attempted replies before your voice decided to cooperate.

No one asked how much of what you'd been through that you remembered, which was just as good because just the throught of having to answer that question felt too great to handle right now. And it definitely wasn't something you wanted to do in front of your parents.

There was something you wondered though. So after the nurses left and you had been given a glass of water with a straw to drink from you turned to your parents again.

“Where did the man go?” you asked.

“What man, sweetie?” your mother asked.

“There was a man here. With me. Where did he go?”

Your parents exchanged worried looks, which you couldn't quite understand.

“There hasn't been any man here, darling. You were alone when you got here and the only visitors you've had so far are your mother and I.”

You frowned a little but nodded and you didn't question them further. Your parents were already giving you looks as if they were worried about your mental state and now you were beginning to question your earlier assessment as well. Maybe Death did have a satellite phone, after all...

You hadn't mentioned him again and as time passed you even stopped thinking about him.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Until now, that was...

You had watched the man as he ordered a beer, flashing the bartender a friendly smile, and then as he walked through the crowd and out onto the big balcony overlooking the street below. As a group of people walked past and you lost sight of him you felt a sharp tug of fear in your stomach at the prospect of losing him again.

You turned to your small group of friends and excused yourself, claiming that you needed some fresh air. The friend next to you offered to come with you but you smiled and shook your head.

“I'm okay,” you assured her. “Just want some fresh air.”

You picked up your own bottle of beer and followed the man out onto the balcony. You immediately spotted him at the far end of it. He was slowly sipping his beer, looking down the street below with a pensive look on his face. He looked just like you remembered him. Other things had blurred over the years, and thank god for that, but he'd been one of the things which had always stayed sharp in your mind. You hadn't told anyone about him and when people had asked how you got out, you'd told them you didn't remember. He was your secret, his memory a small treasure collected from an otherwise purely horrible event.

You walked up to the railing of the balcony too, but with a safe enough distance between you that he wouldn't realize you were there for him. Over the next few minutes you snuck glances in his direction. He looked deep in thought and almost serene, which was in sharp contrast to the upbeat music from the dancefloor inside.

After a while he straightened his back a little, tipped back his head and emptied the last of the beer from the bottle. He set it down on an empty table next to him and turned to head back inside. You quickly looked away so he wouldn't catch you looking and you felt a small sting of disappointment that the moment was over.

A moment later, you heard someone clear their throat behind you.

“While I'm sure that whatever entrance or opening line you're planning here would have been spectacular, I've been waiting for several minutes for you to actually come over and talk to me and I am a horribly impatient man, so forgive me for making the first move here.”

It was him. He stood next to you now, leaning his hip against the parapet of the balcony. There was a flirty smile on his face and not the slightest sign of recognition. You couldn't blame him. You had hardly been in the best shape when you two had last met.

You didn't answer him. In the beginning after you'd been saved, you had imagined what it would be like if you met him again, what you would say. Now though, when he was actually here and standing so close that you could smell his cologne, you couldn't bring yourself to say anything.

The man's smile stayed on his face but the light in his eyes dimmed a little.

“Or have I completely misread the situation here and just made an idiot of myself?” he asked and pretended to wince.

“No,” you forced yourself to reply, afraid that he might leave if you didn't.

“She speaks,” he said, the smile returning to his face with full force.

“I'm sorry,” you apologized and he shook his head.

“No need, I'm sure you're worth the wait.”

He was definitely flirting with you and it made something small and nervous flutter in your stomach and chest. You took a deep breath.

“We've actually met before,” you told him and he raised his eyebrow slightly in confusion. “It's why I came out here. I recognized you in there.”

Now it was his turn to apologize and your turn to assure him it was fine.

“It's okay. I don't expect you to remember me. It was years ago and I...I...I'd been taken and you were the one to find me and carry me to the ambulance. “

Realization dawned on the man's face and he almost whispered your name. You nodded, a little surprised.

“Wow,” he breathed. “I didn't recognize you but ...shit... of course I remember you. You...” He trailed off. “I went with you and dropped you off at the hospital. We weren't sure who you were at first because...”

“Because my face was a mess. I've seen the pictures.”

The man looked uncomfortable but eventuallt nodded.

“I waited outside until your parents showed up. Didn't get a chance to talk to them, though.”

“I wasn't sure if you were real,” you admitted. “No one at the hospital mentioned you and I was afraid they'd think I'd lost it if I mentioned you. Hell, _I_ wasn't even sure that I hadn't lost it.”

“Did you not get...” the man looked slightly awkward, “...I sent you flowers, when you got out of the hospital.”

You frowned and racked your brain, trying to think back. There had been flowers. Most of them from family members and friends. But then there had been a small yellow bouquet that no one had managed to figure out whom it was from.

“The gardenias?” you asked. “But there wasn't a card.”

“Well, there was supposed to have been one. I remember writing it. It had a cartoon sun on it, or something cheesy like that.”

You smiled, trying to link the man in front of you with bouquets of yellow gardenias and cartoon suns.

“The flowers were beautiful, even if I didn't know who to thank for them.”

The man smiled and then he held out his hand.

“Better late than never with the introductions then. I'm Javier.”

“Peña,” you filled in, the faint memory of someone yelling it, echoing in the back of your brain. “Someone was calling you that when you'd found me.”

Javier nodded.

“It's my last name.” He let go of your hand and the two of you looked at each other for a couple of seconds before you gathered your courage.

“Well, Javier Peña, if it's not too much for me to ask, I would love to buy you a drink. As a thanks for the flowers and...and for saving my life.”

Javier smiled warmly and you felt a little giddy. He bit his lip as if contemplating something

“Aand...” he began slowly, “if it's not too much for _me_ to ask, and only _only_ if you're completely comfortable with it, how about we make it a dinner and drink. I'll pay for the dinner. I'd love to hear what you're up to these days, besides stalking people on balconies.”

You laughed and Javier looked relieved.

“Sure. But let's start with the drink.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not entirely sure about the ending here... I might come back and change it later. But for now, it'll do


End file.
